It was with considerable disappointment that I returned from the cinema, having been stood up by my husband. After all, I was eighteen and a very attractive girl, married but still living in my parents house. There were times when I hated men!
When I got home, I was surprised to see the light on in my bedroom, because I knew that only my young husband was in the house. What was he up to? I stealthily opened the front door and quietly climbed the stairs. I peeped into my room.
What a sight. My hubby was standing in front of the mirror wearing one of my silk summer dresses. Now I could revenge myself against males in general and my husband in particular!
I walked in, leant against the wall and said mockingly, “My, don’t we look pretty today.”
He whirled round, absolutely shocked, and blushed to the roots of his hair. “I-I’m sorry, love.” he stammered, “I don’t know what came over me.”
“Well, well,” I said. “fancy my husband being a big sissy. Wait till my father and mother hear about this.”
“No, no,” he pleaded, “please don’t tell anyone. I’ll do anything, but please don’t tell.”
Now he was completely in my power. I was going to enjoy this. “Alright then, but you must do everything I say, right?”
“Yes, I will,” he replied.
“Right, just pull your pretty dress up and show me your undies.”
He knew he had to obey. He reached down and grasped the hem of the dress and pulled it up. Underneath, he was wearing his underpants.
“How disappointing,” I micked, “what should be worn under dresses? Answer me!”
“P-panties?” he managed to say.
“That’s right, panties! Shall we find a nice pair of pretty girls panties for you?” He didn’t answer. “Ask me to find you some pretty panties,” I said.
Looking totally embarrassed, he obeyed. “Please find me some pretty panties,” he said.
I went over to my drawer and opened it. I took out several pairs of my panties and began to hold up each pair. “I wonder which sort will suit you best,” I murmured.
“Seeing as you like silky things, we ought to pick a nice silky pair of panties for you, shouldn’t we? These are rather pretty, aren’t they?” I held a pair of yellow nylon panties against his front. He almost cringed with shame.
“No,” I said, really enjoying myself, “I think pink panties would suit a sissy best.” I selected a pair of pink nylon semi-see-through brief panties and held them up.
“Yes, any girl would be delighted to wear lovely panties like these. Now, let’s get those horrid boy underpants off.” I sat down in front of my dressing table so that he would see himself in the mirror.
“Keep holding your dress up and come here,” I ordered. He walked over, holding the front of his dress up like a can-can girl.
Slowly, I pulled his underpants down, exposing his prick and balls, deliberately looking at them to increase his humiliation. When he had stepped out of his underpants, I picked up my pink panties and held them against him, so that the silky nylon was in contact with his genitals. I gently slid them against his prick. It began to stiffen.
“Gosh,” I said, “you can hardly wait to get your silky panties on, can you.” I held them down by his feet. “Come on sissy-boy, step into your pretty pink panties.” He did so.
Slowly I pulled them up, talking all the time. “Fancy my strong husband letting me dress him in girls panties! To think I’m slipping women’s panties up his legs, my very own pink silky knickers. What a sissy he must be, ’cause only sissies wear girls panties.”
I slid them to the top of his thighs and held them there. “Now, say “I’m a sissy. Please pull my pretty pink panties up.”
He answered with a trembling voice. “I am a sissy. Please pull my pretty pink panties up.”
I slowly slipped the panties over his prick and snapped the elastic round his waist. He was wearing my knickers. The silky pink nylon clung to his semi-erect penis, which pushed out the front of the panties. I stood behind him and made him look in the mirror at himself.
“My, what pretty panties you’re wearing,” I teased. “Do you like wearing your pretty wife’s knickers? Do they feel nice?”
I slipped my hands around his waist and began to run my fingers over the bulging nylon. His clitty became fully erect. “Aren’t they lovely and silky,” I murmured. “Fancy my husband letting me dress him in my pink panties. I’m wearing pink knickers too. Would you like to see my knickers? If so, kneel down in front of me.”
He knelt down on his knees, facing me, still holding his dress up. I stood so that my crotch was about three inches from his face, my legs parted, thrusting against my skirt, looking down at my pantied partner as if he were my slave.
Slowly I pulled my skirt up, right up to my waist. “Have a good look,” I said, “Panties are for girls, not for boys. Any boy who wears knickers is like a girl. Only girly-boys wear girls panties. You are wearing girls panties, so what are you?”
Blushing scarlet, he replied, “I am wearing girls knickers. I am a girly-boy.” Then, suddenly, he surrendered to me and opened up his innermost desires. “I love wearing girls knickers. I want to wear your panties all the time. Make me try on all your panties. Take me to a lingerie shop and buy frilly panties for me. Make me put on tap pants like old ladies wear, or granny panties like your mother wears. In fact, dress me in a pair of mummy’s knickers tonight.” This was too good to be true.
I hurried through to my parents bedroom, rummaged through mothers drawer, and found a pair of her knickers. They were yellow nylon french panties, made of extra silky material.
I went back to my bedroom, where my husband was standing. “Right,” I said, “get those pink panties off.” He slipped the panties down and stepped out of them. “Hold your dress right up.” He did so. I advanced on him, holding Momma’s panties out invitingly. “Alright,” I said, “I’m going to dress you in mummy’s panties. Step into them.”
He slipped his feet through the leg-holes of the panties. Then, slowly, I pulled my mother’s knickers up my husband legs, up over his knees, up over his thighs, up over his clitty.
There was something very obscene about the sight of his prick bulging inside those panties. I wanted to make him come in her panties. I made him lie on the bed. I straddled his head and lowered my crotch onto his mouth.
He began to lick and suck me through my panties. I leaned forward and began to caress his clitty through mummy’s knickers.
He began to moan. “Don’t make me come in mummy’s knickers. Please don’t!” But already his come was flooding into the knickers.
Now he was completely mine.